


The Strain

by merlin07



Category: David Tennant - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 19:35:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 17,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8546443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlin07/pseuds/merlin07
Summary: Sequel to Twofold





	1. Chapter 1

'I have to hang on,' kept repeating itself in his mind, even as the terrible weakness pulled him closer to the dark. He knew that oblivion was waiting for him to give up the fight, give himself over to it, but he couldn't...not yet. He had to be there when they returned. He had to tell them what happened.

So many times he had plotted, schemed to bring about other's destruction but this time it was unintentional, an accident and it would appear that it was taking him down too. 

He groaned as he tried to pull himself more upright. The slumped position he was in, as he leaned on the wall behind him, made it even harder to breathe. 

Pulling back from his physical self he noted with almost clinical interest that the rattling in his chest was worsening. His lungs would soon be unable to give him the oxygen he needed. He knew he could go into bypass but not forever. He'd need to breath sooner or later and when that time came his damaged lungs would not be equal to the task.

His hearts were racing, missing beats as they fluttered arrhythmically. He coughed harshly, feeling wetness on his chin as he did. He didn't bother to wipe it away, he knew it was his own blood but was finding it increasingly hard to care.

Maybe it was the fever, or a side effect of catastrophic physical failure but he found himself laughing at the thought of being killed by something microscopic when beings of great size and strength had been unable to even harm him.

Closing his burning eyes he imagined being discovered, laying dead in a crumpled heap. He had activated the distress signal before he knew what was causing this, and now he hoped that it would be ignored. 

There was a clarity of thought, he mused, that comes with death. As much as he had fought with and wished The Doctor dead, the idea of him catching this virus, suffering as he was now, filled him with dread. He wasn't sure if it was some deeply buried compassion or the fact that he wanted to be the one to snap his fellow Time Lord's neck, watching the life blink out of those large expressive eyes. 

He wanted to believe it was the latter, but as his own life blinked out he realised it was more likely the former. He couldn't quite convince himself that he hated the thin pest, his life long friend/enemy was on the whole a decent being. 

Maybe, in fact, he was jealous of him? Now that was the fever talking, he shook his head. What did he have to be jealous of?

Another round of painful coughing wracked his body making it hard to breathe, let alone think. Gasping and trying to not spray himself with blood, he leaned forward, resting his head on one knee.

The abomination, he focused on the image of the meta-crisis, was he dead yet? He remembered when it hit them both. The half breed realised the nature of the illness first and sent the humans away. They were not affected, and wouldn't be if he guessed the nature of the virus properly. Probably, he snorted, so they couldn't be here to watch them both die.

He hoped that the almost-clone was suffering twice as hard as he was. He never could get past the wrongness, the affront to all that is right that this misbegotten creature represented. His teeth stood on edge in his mere presence. Even before it was evident he had many of The Doctor's more irritating mannerisms, plus added a few uniquely his own.

His eyes were closing, he fought that but his lids were seemingly filled with lead. As were, he noted with detached interest, his legs. They had ceased to have any sensation, in fact, he was beginning to feel numb any place he didn't have searing pain.

As he lost his battle to stay conscious he prayed that The Doctor would not return, would not break quarantine and would not suffer the same fate.


	2. Chapter 2

Violet had been busy, John had convinced her that she needed time away from Torchwood, to spend with her family. He and The Master, he argued, were just going to be digging in musty cupboards in the main warehouse and trying not to kill each other, and she wasn't exactly needed.

She had been concerned about her husband. He seemed a bit flushed but he waved that off by saying if she had to spend any time with The Master one-to-one she'd be a bit red in the face too. She couldn't disagree. The Time Lord was at turns irritating, condescending, sneaky, high-handed and about as cuddly as a cobra with a tooth ache.

But even as she made plans to go on holiday with Pete and Jackie, something niggled at the back of her mind. Maybe, she thought, it was the hurried, chase kiss her John gave her. Like he was distracted. Then again, he probably was. 

They had found out pretty early in The Master's stay with them that if you let your guard down for one minute he'd try something.

And sometimes he did things just to see how far he could push them. Like when John carefully extracted a box of tightly sealed vials from a drawer, cautioning them that since these were unlabelled it was important to handle them with care. So what did The Master do? Deliberately drop then step on a couple of them, the whole time feigning clumsiness, with that smarmy look on his face that barely concealed the malice in his eyes.

Then there were the headaches. Maybe it was because they were working so closely together and the strain was getting to both of them but first John, then The Master developed some sort of migraine variant. John popped pain meds by the handful while The Master just insisted if he had time alone his would clear up.

It seemed wrong to be planning a fun trip while her husband was locked in with the irritating Time Lord but he had insisted. His argument was that after the trauma of Pete being taken prisoner, and the discovery by him of David's true heritage, they deserved time together, as a family.

Seeing the determination in the set of his jaw, Violet knew that this was something John truly believed was important, and arguing with him would do no good. In these moments he was so like The Doctor it was spooky. He had become his own man but there were times when he reverted to being an almost exact copy of the original. It was those times, she quickly learned, that he would not be swayed.

Besides, she laughed softly, what's so bad about taking a holiday? Well aside from having to spend a lot of time up close and personal with her mum. Jackie had insisted on someplace warm, so Pete booked them a two week stay in Jamaica.

Violet had never been to the Jamaica on her true home, the 'real' Earth. She wondered, briefly, what the differences were in this one? But really since she had nothing to compare it to, it didn't really make any difference.

She just wished she could let herself enjoy this holiday. Still something kept poking at the back of her mind, something about John that just didn't seem right. She sat on the edge of the bed, next to her open case and closed her eyes, focusing on him. 

His voice seemed a bit hoarse and he kept clearing his throat...easily explained by his most likely repeatedly yelling at The Master. He seemed more pale than usual, but then again since The Doctor left he hadn't ventured outside the Torchwood complex, too immersed in getting the backlog of items catalogued. 

Just as she almost she had it, the thought flew away. Opening her eyes she finished packing, hoping that she could get the overflowing case shut.


	3. Chapter 3

Coincidentally at the same time Violet was thinking about John, he was thinking about her. The skull splitting headache he had since The Master unleashed the virus, made thought difficult but at least, he comforted himself, he was still mostly rational. 

The hallucinations were the worst, even as he was convincing his wife that he was fine he could see the ghostly forms of people, he, no The Doctor, had let down standing just behind her as she made her goodbyes.

He wasn't hit as quickly or as hard as The Master but it wasn't going to let him go. Because of his half human side he was just fated to die more slowly. He already knew what was to come, by watching how much he was suffering and how swiftly the Time Lord's health declined. 

Looking over at him, slumped against the wall, he wondered if he should once again put him back on the bed he had thrown himself off of repeatedly. No sooner would John expend his lessening energy lifting The Master onto the bed, and getting him settled, then he would thrash about, declaring that John was trying to suffocate him and throw himself off the bed to crawl away to some dark corner.

Compromising John took the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around the violently shivering form. Tucking it around him as best he could before he himself was hit with a hard shudder. 

Replaying once again how this came to be, he wished he had never opened that cupboard. He and The Master had reached an uneasy truce. The Time Lord stopped trying to steal everything in sight and John ceased giving him hourly pat downs. He had allowed himself to believe that this meant The Master was actually going to behave.

He was wrong.

Then he pulled out the box containing the vials, the writing on it so smeared and faded it was impossible to make it out. He lifted the glass tubes carefully out, one by one before replacing them in their holders, trying to guess what they used to contain.

Upon first glance they appeared to be empty. Nothing could be seen by his keen eyes, but even a full blood Time Lord's vision couldn't have made out the microscopic inhabitants without the help of a microscope.

It was then that The Master leaned forward, casually sweeping the entire box of vials onto the floor with a feigned look of horror, "oops," he declared at they smashed on the ground, "I am so clumsy," he stared into John's eyes daring him to say something.

Having both The Doctor's instinctive mistrust of the Time Lord, plus his own rapidly developing one he knew that there as nothing accidental about what had just happened.

Now it seemed The Master's pettiness, his childish need to prove himself uncooperative, was destroying them both.

Neither of them had any idea that those 'empty' vials would kill them. John first, then The Master got the headache that seemed to be resistant to all forms of painkillers. In desperation John even tried morphine but as he drifted off on a cloud of bliss he realised that this would only further weaken him and chose to just learn to spend the rest of the time he had left trying to find a cure, if there was one.

He rubbed his temples as another wave of dizziness hit him, his one heart pounding at an alarm rate in his chest as he fought to not be sick again. 

Remembering how they had argued about sending for The Doctor, John insisting that since this virus was apparently only effecting those with Time Lord blood it made no sense to expose him and more importantly, David to this. Conversely The Master seemed to want them all to suffer. In the end John was glad he had taken the distress signal device away from him.

Speaking of...he turned around to the countertop he had placed the device after confiscating it, but it was gone. In an almost panic he searched the room, then it hit him just where it was. 

Bending over, despite it causing his head to feel like it would explode, he reached into The Master's jacket pocket and there it was. Turned on and transmitting. With a groan he switched it off, even though he knew it was too late.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor suddenly stopped his rushing around the console, jerking back as if something had delivered an electric shock.

"Are you OK?" David asked rising from his perch on the jumpseat.

"It stopped," the Thin Time Lord breathed out, looking at the controls, eyes wide.

"What stopped?" 

"The distress signal. It just stopped...." 

"That's good, right?" the actor responded not liking the stillness and the look of fear? concern? in The Doctor's eyes, "maybe it was turned on in error and once they figured it out they shut it off?"

"I'd love that to be so," The Doctor replied quietly, "but..." he stepped back to the console and pulled the monitor close to him, "the main Torchwood building life scans are showing only two beings. A place that size? This time of day? Should be crawling with people."

He twiddled a few dials and the front of Torchwood shifted into focus. A large white sign with big red letters declared that it was being fumigated and would be closed for a week.

David tapped the screen, "that's why it's empty," he tried to reassure the still obviously concerned Time Lord.

"If that's so, why are there two life forms inside? If they're trapped inside and they've started the fumigation, they're most likely the source of the signal," the Time Lord continued, "and one of them," he squinted at the swirling characters on the screen, "is fading in strength. His or hers or its life signs are showing serious distress. And...." he stopped his face going as white as a sheet.

"And?" David prompted.

"And....he has two hearts," came the reply, so quiet that it was almost impossible to make out what he was saying. Then he straightened up, "that's obviously The Master. The distress signal wasn't an accident and that sign is clearly a fake."

"They don't want anyone to go into there," the tall Scot sighed, "so of course we're going to ignore that and barge right in."

The Doctor smiled winningly, "you know me too well," he chuckled softly. Then his expression grew serious, "from these read outs The Master is seriously, perhaps even deathly ill. The other life sign I picked up was quite sick as well, and is half human, half Time Lord..."

"John?" David gasped.

"They are all alone, and need our help," with that he flipped a few switches, "the air quality is decent, no known poisons or gasses that would be fatal to either of us."

"Then why are they dying?" the actor asked.

"Perhaps they ate something? Drank something contaminated? But the TARDIS has an extensive database of toxins, poisons, viruses and weapons and she's not picking up on anything."

"Could it be it's not something in the database?" David mused aloud.

"Nah, she's a clever one, if it's out there, she knows about it!"

"But what if it's something no one has seen before? Or not for a really long time?" 

This made The Doctor pause, "then it could be very, very dangerous. Maybe it would be best if you didn't leave the TARDIS until I've had time to get a handle on the situation."

"You're just going to go bounding in there, taking no precautions for your own safety but you want me to hang back just in case?"

"Pretty much, yeah," the Time Lord nodded, seemingly relieved to not have to explain himself further.

"And if something happens to you, I'm just supposed to hang out in the TARDIS for the rest of my life?" 

The Doctor frowned, this wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped, "I can programme her to take you back to your Earth, in case of emergency...."

"You said that John's sick but not as sick as The Master?" 

"Right..."

"So whatever is causing it effects full on Time Lord's more than those with a mixed heritage..."

Catching on to where David was going with this The Doctor held out his hands, "whoa! Hold it right there, I can't let you put yourself in danger!"

"But it's OK if you do?"

Shaking his head, wondering how to turn this back around in his favour The Doctor's mouth clamped shut with an audible click. Whatever he said next, he realised, would be some of the most important words of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

Not coming up with anything that would sound impressive, foreboding or even remotely convincing The Doctor sighed loudly, "fine! I'll get the hazmat suit I 'borrowed' from Jack and you can come with me if you wear it, you should be...well hopefully...I mean it could prevent...." 

"I think I know what you mean, and it sounds like a good idea," David finished for him, "but what precautions are you going to take?"

"I only have the one suit," the Time Lord shrugged, "besides I rarely get ill, I take my supplements and try to eat right, although I do have a weakness for chips, not sure really how good they are for you but when they're hot and the vinegar and salt hits them the first few bites are like a flavour explosion!"

"Right....back to the precautions please?" David prompted.

"I'll be fine," The Doctor replied shortly, clearly figuring the subject to be closed.

"If it's killing The Master and John's very ill, what makes you think you'll be fine?" 

This brought the Time Lord to a standstill, he looked at the actor, his face grave, "I don't but I can't just let them die without trying to save them."

"One of these days someone is going to convince you that your life it just as important as everyone else's and maybe then you will see how reckless your attitude seemingly casual attitude regarding it really is," David replied softly.

"Good luck with that," The Doctor laughed mirthlessly, "it's been over nine hundred years and no one's managed yet."

Before David could say anything further the sound of the TARDIS landing filled the room, The Doctor jumped up the ramps leading up into the higher floors of the ship, "time to get you outfitted and then into Torchwood!" he chirped as he disappeared from view.

The sudden changes of mood, David mused as he followed The Doctor at a more leisurely pace, were something he would never get used to.

\--------

The security cameras picked up the TARDIS' landing. John watched it arrive and resisted the urge to kick the now completely unconscious Master as hard as he could. He couldn't think of a way to warn them off without exposing them to the virus. 

It was obvious that the fumigation signs wouldn't keep The Doctor away, too bad, he laughed that he didn't have an apple. 

Rubbing his temples he tried to focus on the task at hand. He could use the loud speaker system to communicate with them but it was four floors up and given his weakened state he'd never get there before they entered the building.

As much as he cared for The Doctor, he was more worried about exposing David, his son, to this. He knew that it would take longer for him to get truly ill but it would get him in the end, just as it had hit him a bit slower than it did The Master. Even if he suffered one tenth of the pain it would be excruciating.

Wishing he had access to the building's security system he pictured putting it in complete lock down. But he had never been given the codes and calling Violet to get them would only arouse her suspicions. 

Maybe common sense would win out and they wouldn't breach the building?

'Yeah....right...' he snorted aloud, his voice sounded hoarse and breathless and very foreign to his ears, 'and maybe pigs will really fly.' He pictured The Doctor storming in, unprepared and impulsive, and most likely unprotected. He hoped David at least had some sense and would not join the Time Lord in his death wish.

Taking the only step he could to prevent the impending and unwanted intruders getting in easily, he sealed the door using The Master's laser screwdriver. The effort making him dizzy, then he leaned the door, back resting against it and closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

"Before we go out, wouldn't it make sense for you to wear something like a breathing mask or at least tie a handkerchief over your mouth and nose?" David stopped at the door of the TARDIS. He was clad head to toe in a protective suit whereas The Doctor didn't even bother to put on his coat.

Fighting the childish urge to roll his eyes the Time Lord realised that his companion was not about to let the subject drop. With a sigh he walked over to his coat, fished out a bright red square of material and fastened it around the lower half of his face, "better?" he asked his voice muffled.

"Not very high tech but I suppose it will do, I hope," the actor nodded. They stepped out and in a couple of strides were at the front door, "do you really think they're fumigating?"

"No," The Doctor replied, "I checked, aside from some half empty hornet's spray containers there is nothing to suggest any sort pesticide in the place. This is just to keep people away."

"Have you ever done just that? Stayed away when you're warned to?" David asked.

The Time Lord's eyes grew wide with amusement, "nope. To me that's the equivalent of a giant welcome mat. An invitation to come in and snoop around."

"Figured as much," the actor muttered just loud enough to be heard, "so what's the game plan."

"If I had my way you'd stay in the TARDIS..."

David cut him off, "that's not going to happen."

"Then the game plan is, we find John and The Master and figure out what's going on with them," The Doctor pulled out his sonic, pressed it to his ear, twirling the end of it as they walked, "their life signs are fading. I'm hoping it's some equipment interfering with this, but I'm not counting on it. If we don't get to them soon we may lose them."

"Wouldn't The Master just regenerate?"

"Based on my readings if he could have he would have by now, but something is stopping that from happening," came the grave reply, "he's either unwilling or unable to do so."

"You can choose not to?" David asked, "I wondered if that was something the show writers just made up!"

"It was never meant to be optional, but as time went on, even those with more than enough regenerations left were just dying. Turns out there is a crucial moment, before the biological process fully kicks in and it's beyond your control that you can, by sheer force of will shut it off," The Doctor spoke, his voice curiously monotone, "the elders never thought that it was possible to refuse to regenerate but as the incidents rose in frequency it became painfully apparent that it was."

Before David could say anything further the Time Lord continued, "lost a few friends that way, it's the Time Lord's form of committing suicide. Grow old enough and weary enough and I guess it seems like a viable option."

"Have you ever considered it?" 

The Doctor looked at him, his eyes unreadable, "oh yes." Then he seemed to give himself a shake and bounded into reception, "but for now...mystery to solve, lives to save! Allons-y!" with that he ran towards the lifts, "still working!" 

He turned to David, "last chance, if you want to go back to the TARDIS until this is all over, no one will think badly of you."

"No way, someone's got to keep you out of trouble."

Even under the impromptu mask it was evident The Doctor was grinning like a school boy, as he pressed the button and the lift car started up towards them.

\--------

The illness hadn't effected John's sense of hearing, in fact as his fever climbed it almost seemed that most of his senses grew more acute. He heard the distant ding of the lift call button and knew that the building had been breached. And by the fact that none of the fake warning signs had deterred the visitors he had a pretty good idea who it was.

He just hoped that if The Doctor was stupid enough to come charging in, he would do it solo. He didn't want him to come to harm, obviously, but the idea of David getting exposed and suffering this fate filled him with dread.

Knowing that without being able to deadlock seal the doors, it would only be a matter of time before they'd be found. Shaking with the effort he bent down and picked up the completely limp Master, placing him on the bed once more, tucking him in and making sure he was at least somewhat comfortable.

Then he pulled a gun out of his pocket, flipped open the chamber to count the bullets, and set it on the table next to him, folding his hands in his lap to wait patiently for the unwelcome arrival.


	7. Chapter 7

The Master tossed in his sleep, his mind, though he was almost completely unreceptive to most other outside influences, picked up on the presence of another Time Lord. He twitched as he wanted to scream at him to turn around and leave. Instead his telepathic abilities were a mere whisper on the wind. He could feel that he was not able to get through as he would have liked, instead he felt the questioning response, but unable to answer properly he whimpered and threw himself off the bed once more. At first he lay in a crumpled heap just next to it, then summoning strength from somewhere crawled slowly away.

John felt it too, he could feel The Doctor very strongly he just didn't have the ability to broadcast back in the same way. He cursed the human DNA that made him only a pale copy of the original even though in some ways it was prolonging his life. As he rose to find the intercom he felt the tickle of another. With a load groan he realised who it was. 

"If you get out of this alive," he growled hoarsely, glaring in the general direction of where he had felt the Time Lord's presence, "I will kill you myself."

\--------

The Doctor felt first The Master's weak attempts to contact him but wasn't quite sure at first what it was he was feeling. When it stopped he had almost put it down to his imagination when a heat wave of anger and hostility hit him so hard it almost knocked the breath from his lungs. He fell against the wall of the lift with a gasp, one hand clutching at the side of his head.

"Are you OK?" David asked taking the Time Lord by the shoulders and pulling him away from the wall.

"Just...felt..." The Doctor panted, eyes tightly closed. He fell limp and trembled in the actors arms so violently it almost appeared that he was having a seizure. Then just as suddenly as it came over him, it seemed to pass. He opened his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath, "I'm OK it's gone now." It was clear at his even more pale appearance and his rapid pulse that he was not OK but at least he was standing on his own.

"What just happened?"

"I'm not sure," the Time Lord replied slowly, "I think I touched minds with The Master, but it was really weak like a radio station just out of range. Then I felt a blast of very intense rage, that may have been John, then they both faded out."

He rubbed his temples, absently, "I wish I knew what was going on," just then the lift stopped at the doors started to open, "I guess we'll find out," he poked his head out and looked down the long corridor, "do you smell something?"

David pointed to the hazmat suit, "I wouldn't smell a skunk if you set it off in front of me," he laughed.

"It's like, lilacs and cinnamon mixed with..." The Doctor lowered his make shift breathing mask briefly, taking a deep inhalation before putting it back, "mixed with...death."

Running a hand through his hair distractedly he made no move to leave the lift, "I really think you should go back," he intoned softly.

"You are wasting your breath, I'm not going back to the TARDIS, so just forget it."

"Why is it, nobody ever listens to me?" the Time Lord grumbled, "fine! but if this kills us both I get to say I told you so."

David was about to ask how if they were both dead The Doctor planned to accomplish that but just as he opened his mouth a nearby loud speaker screeched into life.

"Go away," the speaker yelled at them, the volume had been turned all the way up, and the feedback was hard on the ears. The voice under all that racket was hoarse and breathy, but it was clearly John's.

Looking around for a way to reply, a button to push or something turned up nothing. David was about to say something about this when he realised he was alone. He glanced up to see the back end of The Doctor disappearing down the corridor.

With great misgivings he followed the Time Lord. Maybe, he pondered, warnings just don't translate from English to Gallifreyan properly? Because it seemed when The Doctor was told not to do something in apparently made him want to do it that much more. Or maybe he had a death wish? Either way he did have to wonder why he himself was in such a hurry to follow suit.


	8. Chapter 8

John had wanted to say more but a wave of dizziness hit him so hard he barely had time to grab onto a nearby chair before the shakes that preceded the nausea set in. By the time that cleared up he heard footsteps approaching and knew it was too late.

The Doctor reached the door of the lab and immediately whipped out the sonic screwdriver. David caught up to him moments later and was about to ask about the wisdom of this action when the intercom crackled again.

"If you wish to die," came the distorted voice, "then by all means continue with what you're doing." 

This particular speaker did have a push to talk button, so David did, "can you tell us what's happening?" he asked leaning in close to the device.

"You need to turn around and get yourself out of here, now. I know The Doctor won't listen, but you are smarter than him," John's voice seemed shaky but the force of his words were clear, "I'm not opening this door until you leave."

The Doctor gestured for David to keep John talking, as he worked on opening the door.

"Are you all right?" the actor continued, wincing at his own words. Of course he wasn't! He expected to be told off for such a stupid question.

There was a moment of silence before he heard, "no. The Master in his infinite immaturity broke some vials I found that were apparently filled with a deadly virus. It's only fatal, apparently to those with Time Lord blood....which means you too. Now I'm sure that you're trying to distract me but I can detect the sound of that sonic screwdriver anywhere. Conversation over."

The Doctor, who had been resting his side against the door as he worked suddenly jumped back with a cry of surprise. 

Before David could ask he rubbed his shoulder, "that's just cheating!" the Time Lord exclaimed glaring at the door, "obviously this door has some tamper proof settings and he amplified them. Gave me a jolt."

"Obviously he doesn't want you to go in."

"Not exactly true," The Doctor replied slowly, "if you'll remember correctly it's you he doesn't want to come in..." with that he put his arm around David's shoulder, and lead him away from the door and down the corridor a ways. 

He waited until they were far enough away from the lab door to speak again, "I think there are cameras at the door but I don't see any down here. If you hide back here until I get access into the room, I think that might be best. Unless you're willing to listen to reason and head back to the..." he ventured hopefully.

"Not a chance," David cut him off, "OK but once you get the doors open you can't just leave me out here on my own."

"I won't," The Doctor tried for sincerity but it was obvious that he had planned to do just that.

"Swear it," the actor insisted.

With a resigned sigh and a slight eye roll, the Time Lord replied, "cross my hearts..." he gestured vaguely at his chest, "now, stay here..." he turned and walked back to the lab door.

From where he stood he couldn't really see The Doctor but by the sound of the intercom springing to life again he knew he had arrived at the lab.

"I'm on my own," The Doctor started, "please let me in."

"Where's David?" 

"He took your advice and mine, finally, and is heading back to the TARDIS as we speak."

There was silence at this, it was becoming apparent that as much as John wanted to believe that to be true, he wasn't really convinced yet. Maybe he was scanning the hallways using the security cameras? David did a quick check and didn't see one nearby. 

"Prove it," came the challenge after what seemed to be an eternity.

"To do that I have to come inside, I can show you the readings on the sonic," The Doctor quickly offered.

More silence. David held his breath straining to hear something that would indicate John was falling for the Time Lord's lie. It would be hard, he mused, to deceive someone who knew all your tricks. Just when he thought it was not going to work, he heard the sound of a door unlocking and swinging open.


	9. Chapter 9

In his long life The Doctor had seemingly lost the ability to be shocked, but seeing John's face, ghostly white, with bright spots of red on his cheeks, and eyes fever bright made his hearts skip a beat. 

Seeing how his clothes hung on him, and knowing, like himself, John had little spare flesh to begin with made his breath catch in his throat. He had prepared himself, or so he had thought, for the idea that he was unwell, he could feel that in his mind way before they got to Torchwood, but how badly off he was...no.

He reached out a hand to touch his almost-clone but John jerked away from him, before taking a stumbling step backwards, "you really don't think that," he raised a shaky hand to gesture at the make shift mask that Time Lord had on, "is going to help you?"

"You should be in bed," The Doctor spoke softly, "not trying to prove how macho you are to me. I know you, you are just operating on sheer will right now."

John frowned at him, then gestured at The Master slumped against one wall, "I keep trying to tell him that, but he won't stay put."

The Doctor had been so focused on John he hadn't even seen The Master. If John looked like death warmed over The Master looked even worse. His chin and neck were covered in dried or drying blood, and it was caked around his mouth as well. He hadn't wasted away like John, as he had more padding to start with, but he too looked gaunt and pale.

Not sure what emotions he should give more credence to, The Doctor stood immobile for a second, eyes traveling from John to The Master and then to the door. He was about to rush over to shut it, when David stepped inside the lab.

"You lied to me," John sighed, seeing the actor join them, "guess I knew you were, but I sort of hoped..." he trailed off. Then looking at David he mustered a weak smile, "nice suit, the colour looks good on you. Keep that on."

"I plan to," David replied, trying to smile back but seeing how ill the other man was he couldn't manage much more than not bursting into tears, he quickly looked away and saw the still form of The Master, "is he...?" he broke off trying to tell if the Time Lord was still breathing.

"He's still alive for now," John laughed, then broke into a coughing fit that left him gasping for breath. 

As soon as he recovered The Doctor demanded he show him the box the vials came in. John hesitated like he was not going to at first, then shrugged and slowly, haltingly led the Time Lord to the now empty box.

David stood there for a moment, watching the two of them retreating, then he glanced over at The Master. He noticed something twinkling just under the collar of the Time Lord's shirt, "he still has the stasis collar on!" Looking over at the other two it was apparent they hadn't heard him, they were too immersed in examining the box.

Approaching The Master he bent down to turn the collar on, sure that it would halt the progress of whatever it was that was clearly killing him. As he reached out The Master's eyes flew open and he lunged at the startled actor, his eyes burning with hate. 

Before he could recover from the surprise at this swift turn of events The Master grabbed him, clawing at the hood of the hazmat suit, trying to rip it off. When that didn't work he shoved a sleeve up with a unexpected burst of strength, held on tight and sunk his teeth into David's now exposed arm.

With a yelp David yanked his arm out of his mouth and jumped back. The Master prepared for another attack but wasn't quick enough as the tall Scot flipped the switch on the stasis collar before he could make another move.

Pushing the sleeve back down, to cover the scratches and the small puncture wounds caused by the Time Lord's sharp teeth David glanced over at The Doctor and John to see if they had witnessed the attack. They hadn't. Figuring it would be best to not worry them David walked over to where they were studying the box.

The Doctor glanced up over the rim of his glasses, "what were you doing over there?"

"The Master is still wearing the stasis collar, " David tried to keep his voice from showing the panic he felt knowing that he was probably now infected with whatever it was that was killing the others, "I switched it on."

John went still at this pronouncement, face unreadable while The Doctor's eyes widened as that bit of information sunk in. He whirled on his half human clone, "you knew he had it on the entire time didn't you?" he asked softly.

The answer came as a shrug and then a nod of agreement.

"Why didn't you turn it on?" The Doctor's voice was even more quiet, making it almost impossible to hear.

"It was his fault this happened in the first place," John replied defensively, his dark eyes seeming to blacken as he spoke, "he broke the vials on purpose. Why should I grant him mercy when he brought this on himself?"

"Then why didn't you use it on yourself?" David asked.

"Ask him," John pointed at the thin Time Lord who was still regarding him with a horrified expression.

"Control," The Doctor breathed out, "he would never voluntarily give it up."

"You should know, I got that from you," the meta-crisis snapped as he moved to stand right in front of the Time Lord and the two locked eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

David was about to say something about the idiocy of being a control freak to the point of dying for it when he was suddenly overcome with a pounding headache. He sat down on a nearby chair and rubbed his temples while the other two were locked in what would appear to be a staring contest.

John was the first to notice this, he broke away from The Doctor and put his hand on David's shoulder, "are you OK?" but before David could reply John noticed the widening wet spot on the arm of the hazmat suit, "you're bleeding."

The Doctor bounded over, "what did you do to your arm?" he asked putting his fingers on the wet area and seeing the blood.

"I didn't want to worry you," David explained closing his eyes, as the light was beginning to bother him, "but when I went to activate the stasis collar The Master came awake..."

"And?" both John and The Doctor prompted.

"And he bit me."

"You have a really bad headache now," John sighed not really asking but making a statement.

"Right," David agreed wondering if his head was going to explode any minute.

"That's the first stage of it, you get that then..." he was cut off as The Doctor gasped loudly gripping his temples with both hands groaning in pain. He swayed on his feet as if trying to steady himself before his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed. David's eyes flew open at the sound and he jumped up to catch the Time Lord before he fell. 

John watched this all dispassionately, "and then, if you're full blooded, you pass out, and drift in and out of consciousness," he continued, "and those brief moments when you're awake you're almost completely irrational."

"Help me get him to the bed," David pleaded, his legs trembling with the effort of holding the limp Time Lord in his arms.

"You may was well dump him on the floor, he'll probably wind up there anyway," John advised his tone mild.

"I'm not doing that," the actor protested as he stumbled with his burden to the bed, determined to make The Doctor as comfortable as possible.

"All right," John joined him taking the Time Lord's legs and assisting in lifting him up, "but you'll soon see it is a wasted effort."

After tucking in The Doctor David sat on the edge of the bed, "how long has this been going on?"

"I've sort of lost track of time," John admitted, "what is today anyway?"

David looked at his watch, "Tuesday."

"He broke the vials, on Sunday. The headache hit about a half hour after that. Based on my progress, I'd say you have about fives days until you're as ill as he is, " he gestured at The Master, "I'm about a day and a half away from that myself."

"And The Doctor?" 

"He's going to be very ill, very soon. The Master has pretty sick since the end of the first day, I had to hide him from Violet or she never would have left," John explained, "he's had his lucid moments but they are getting farther apart."

"You were just going to let him die?" David asked.

"He is still going to die, there's no cure. I'm going to die, he's going to die, you're going to die and so will The Doctor. It's not a matter of if, it's when."

Refusing to give up David decided to focus on something else, "just now you and The Doctor were looking at the box the vials came in, what did you find out?"

John shrugged, "it's not important now."

"Yes it is!" the actor insisted, a bit concerned at how his head pounded in time with his heart, "you may be willing to give up but I'm not!"

"I'm not sure what that information would do to help," the meta-crisis protested.

"Just tell me!" David, grabbed the other man's shirt front, pulling him in close and almost shouting at him. He let go and took a deep breath, taken aback by his behaviour.

To his surprise John was smiling at him sadly, "that's another symptom, your emotions get all out of whack," patting him gently on the arm, "I think it's a side effect of the headache."


	11. Chapter 11

For someone who looked like he would collapse at any minute John was surprisingly active. He was fussing in one area of the lab for a bit, opening and closing drawers and then came back to where David was sitting. He had taken off the hazmat suit as he figured he was already exposed to the virus.

His throat felt really dry, probably from the recycled air he had been breathing in the hazmat suit. Fishing in his pockets he found some breath mints and quickly crunched one to get the fuzzy feeling and sticky taste out of his mouth.

"I made us some tea, and rustled up a few aspirin for you," John held out a cup and some pills, "I don't know if they'll help I can't take them they make me sick, and well, I don't need more help in that area."

"So we're just going to wait to die?" David asked popping the pills into his mouth and washing them down with the still hot tea, regretting it as it burnt his throat.

"If you have any other ideas I'm open to suggestions," John replied.

"The box and the writing on it, I gathered The Doctor had an idea what it was."

"He said it was too smudged and faded to read. I told you it wasn't important," John took a sip of the tea, "the only thing he could say was the box wasn't cardboard it was made from a mixture of sayil silica, mud of some sort and synthetic fibres." 

"That's a start, right? I haven't heard of sayil silica, is that from Earth?" 

"Oh no, it's from..." John stopped setting his cup of tea down on the saucer slowly.

"From?" David prompted.

"Gallifrey."

"This poison was created by a Time Lord?"

John stood up, fists clenched at his side, "probably more than one!" he hissed, "there were always rumours of pockets of anarchists, those who were plotting to overthrow the established order and secret labs being used to develop biological warfare in order to accomplish this! But I, I mean The Doctor, always believe this to be just that, rumours!"

"Which is why it effects Time Lords or those with mixed blood, like you and me," David replied slowly, "but how did it end up here?"

"Probably obtained from a crashed ship, maybe they found it in some old cargo salvage somewhere and didn't know what they had. The vials appeared to be empty, I thought they were too, so most likely no one knew what they were bur figured it could be used for something else someday."

"Did you keep any of the smashed vials?" David asked, grasping at straws.

"I did, I swept up all the bigger shards and put them back in the box. I didn't know then that I would need them for analysis I just did it at the time because it was nearby. I have been running tests," John gestured vaguely at a microscope and other lab equipment.

"And what did you find?"

"It's definitely a virus but nothing the computers here can identify. It seems to work by immediately shutting down the body's natural defences."

"Aside from the headache and a bit of a queasy stomach," David mused aloud, "and this rancid taste in my mouth, I feel fine." He pulled out a packet of breath mints, popping one in his mouth, "want one?" he offered the other man. 

"No thanks," John leaned in closely, "your chest doesn't feel like an elephant is standing on it? No aches or pains or occasional bout of feeling like you're on fire?"

"Not yet, I take it that is to come sometime soon?"

"Maybe it's because you're more human than I am, but yeah...." he broke off still watching David carefully. Just when the actor felt like he was a specimen on a slide John walked away and moved to some drawers to rummage around. He came back holding a syringe, "roll up your sleeve."

"Before I do, please tell me you know how to do that?"

"I've done it on myself, several times in the last few days. A couple were on a very uncooperative Master, so yes I do," John grinned wickedly, waving the syringe,"now it's your turn."

After the blood sample was drawn the meta-crisis seemed to forget David was there, so he wandered over to The Doctor. Since his collapse he had not made a sound. He didn't thrash about like John had said The Master had done, he just lay still. It was obvious by the rasping sound as he breathed out that he was quite ill. What had John said 'like an elephant standing on your chest'?

He reached out to touch the immobile Time Lord, placing a hand on his forehead. He knew that their body temperature was usually lower than that of a human but The Doctor was so hot to the touch it almost burnt his fingers.

He was about to say something to John about this when The Doctor's eyes opened. He focused on David briefly then he looked around the room, "this was a bad idea," he groaned as he attempted to sit up.

"Then don't," the actor urged him, "how are you feeling?"

"There was this one time I got in a drinking contest with a warrior chief from Ghaol before I remembered that they live on alcohol, and the next day I had the worst hangover of my life," the Time Lord replied as he laid back down, "this is that day times twelve."

He attempted a smile but it didn't quite work, "this is pretty nasty, I can feel my rational mind slipping away, you have to promise me whatever I say or do you won't..." he coughed violently turning bright red as he did so. When he stopped David could see flecks of blood on his lips.

"I won't hold it against you," the tall Scot reassured him. That seemed to be just what The Doctor needed to hear, he closed his eyes, pulling the covers in tight as he rolled over onto his side and seemed to go back to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Violet tried to relax. The beaches and the ocean were stunning. The drink in her hand was delicious as were the other two that went before them, but she couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong.

She tried calling John for the millionth time (or so it felt) but his annoying trait of refusing to carry a mobile and his less that stellar track record of answering any phone just got her Torchwood's voicemail yet again.

Pete leaned over, snapping his fingers at her, "that's it, give it to me!" he gestured for her to hand him the phone.

"OK! OK! I'll put it away," she sighed stuffing it into her carry-all with a forced casualness. Making sure as she did so that it was on top in case it should happen to ring.

Jackie was too busy yelling at a hapless waiter to take any notice of the exchange between the two of them. Pete glanced at his wife and back to his step-daughter, his face softening, "look, one of the maintenance men called me two days ago, said they were doing a fumigation. The 'specimens' were moved off-site and the whole building shut down. John's probably using that time to go to the country, or off exploring, you know how he is. So stop worrying!"

Violet nodded in apparent agreement. Wondering if she could manage to slip a GPS device into John's drink at some point in the future. As she pretended to admire the scenery she pondered if her worry was more that something was wrong with her husband or she was so insecure that she imagined he had left her?

Closing her eyes she pictured him laying next to her, enjoying the sun. She almost laughed aloud at that image. He inherited his fair skin from The Doctor and would probably be cinders within minutes unless he was slathered head to toe in some absurdly high SPF lotion. 

Allowing herself a bit of a daydream about helping him apply the lotion Violet smiled.

\------

Back at Torchwood David was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a soft chuckle. He looked over at John who was still sitting in close to the microscope but was grinning ear to ear.

"Did you find something?" he asked.

John shook his head, "no, but I got this sudden urge to find something with coconut oil in it."

Remembering what he had said earlier about becoming irrational David eyed the other man carefully. John's smile slipped as he realised this, "I'm fine, don't worry I'm not going to start raving or anything..." he straightened up and focused on the slide, "weird thing about your blood." 

"What's weird about it?" David joined him trying to peer into the microscope too.

"Well, you were directly exposed to the virus via The Master's bite, and now by breathing it in so you have a much higher concentration of it in your body," John started, sounding so much like The Doctor when he goes into full on lecture mode it was spooky, "but yet you are not presenting with the symptoms at a a corresponding accelerated rate."

With that he regarded the actor for a few moments, eyes narrowed, "it's not just because of your biology, there's something else factoring in here. I ran a simulation on your basic make up and adding in this virus and it said that you should be just as ill as I am or possibly worse by now given your exposure."

He reached out and tapped David on the chest, "so what's going on?"

"Not that I'm disappointed that I'm not more ill, but how is that possible?" 

John's eyes lost their focus for a few moments, and he tilted his head up towards the ceiling, as if looking to the heavens for an answer, "this may need further analysis..." he finally answered, "this is going to be a long night, there's an extra bed over there," he nodded to one area of the lab, "I'll give you a sedative and you can get some rest."

"What about you?" David wondered how he kept going he looked completely exhausted, "shouldn't you rest?"

"I don't need much sleep," John waved him off, then almost under his breath he added, "and if we don't figure this out I'll get plenty of rest...in peace. I hope."


	13. Chapter 13

The chills had started to hit him so getting tucked up into a warm bed, made warmer by John turning on the electric blanket on as he tucked him in, felt really good. David's eyes grew heavy way before the covers were lifted on one side and he felt the slight sting of a hypodermic prick his skin.

John watched him, sitting on the edge of the bed in silence, until the sedative kicked in. He was still trying to figure out why, given how virulent and how violently this virus overtook The Master, The Doctor and himself, that David was only mildly effected in comparison?

Before climbing into the bed David had emptied his pockets. John now fingered their former contents as if he was reading tea leaves. The rather dented and slightly burnt fob watch that had saved the day when David's memory had been wiped by The Master was cool to the touch and still quietly singing. Next was a mobile phone, now equipped with universal roaming no doubt. Then came a wallet, with a picture sleeve containing pictures of David's Earth family and some friends. A packet of breath mints, a pen and keys rounded out the collection.

Picking up the wallet again John thumbed through the pictures, stopping at the one that was clearly a family portrait from David's childhood. He was front and centre smiling widely, hair sticking up as if only hastily combed just moments before, with a gap where his two front teeth had fallen out. From the tooth loss and the clothing John guessed it was taken when David was around six or seven. 

His heart clenched as he looked at the smiling faces in the photo, not only had he missed out on seeing his son at that age, he knew that if David died as a result of this virus, his family back on his Earth would never know what happened to him. They would always wonder....

As that thought hit him he took in a deep, gasping breath, and wiped his hands across his face trying to get himself back under control. Slipping the family picture out of the wallet John held it for a moment, still staring at it, running his long fingers over the image of the smiling boy as if to memorise the dimples on his face, then he pressed the photo to his heart before putting it into his shirt pocket. 

Standing up carefully, trying to keep the ever-present dizziness to a tolerable level he went over to check on The Doctor. A quick scan of the handheld device Torchwood had gotten off of a wrecked medical ship from Jathross showed the Time Lord's body temperature was at an alarmingly high level. Which a quick visual check confirmed it, the thin sheen of sweat plus the red of his cheeks made it painfully obvious he was vastly unwell.

John looked at him then over to The Master, and back. Decision made he pushed up his sleeve, pressed a button on the metal bracelet on his wrist, and turned off stasis collar. He quickly removed it from around the still Time Lord's neck and in two steps was at The Doctor's bed side. Bending to place the collar around the much thinner neck, he snapped it in place, adjusted it so it fit snugly and switched it on. 

Not bothering to glance back at The Master John straightened up, "you deserve to suffer, you evil bastard," he hissed before walking back over to the microscope and continuing his research.

David's sleep, even though assisted by the sedative coursing through his veins, was not very restful. He tossed and turned, alternately kicking off the covers and then shakily grabbing them again, just moments later, to pull them in tight. Every time he moved John would stop what he was doing and watch him, then when he went still again he'd return to his work, even more convinced he was doing the right thing. 

He didn't feel guilty about removing The Master from the stasis collar, he knew The Doctor's life was more important, but he also knew, in his heart of hearts, if David's health were to decline further he'd do whatever it took to delay his son's death over the Time Lord's. Touching his shirt pocket and feeling the photo within, he smiled sadly before adding a pipette full of a clear yellowish liquid to a slide.

\-----

The Master's world was bright, very loud and full of confusing images. He knew, somewhere back in the few remaining parts of his rational mind, that he was awake but everything was distorted and took on a nightmarish quality. Rising from his position on the floor, he half walked, half crawled to a sink, hauled himself up with all the strength he could muster and turned on a tap. Ducking his head under the cool water he doused himself thoroughly before taking a long drink.

The water slaked his thirst but did nothing for the awful taste in his mouth. Wishing he had some brandy or at the very least, a strong mouth wash, he wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve.

He could just make out three other beings in the room. Two were on beds, one seemed to be sparkling in the cold fluorescent lighting, or rather his collar was twinkling. The other one was on his side, covers pulled up to his chin, eyes closed.

The third man looked up briefly as he stumbled across the lab, but disregarded him going back to whatever it was he was doing before he caught sight of The Master's movements.

The scariest part about his company was that all three men seemed to have the same face. A distant memory floated up to the surface something about...then with a lightening bolt of clarity he realised who these men, well, two mongrels and a Time Lord were.

"It's just my luck," he slurred, "to have to die with all three of you ugly misfits of you for company," he managed to get his words out before collapsing onto the floor again. 

As The Master's head hit the hard slate John winced. Even though The Master deserved everything he was now getting, he wasn't without some compassion. With a soft groan he rose from his seat, his cramped muscles protesting as he did so, he walked over to the crumpled heap of a Time Lord. Bending over the still form he shifted him into a more comfortable position on his back. Giving him a quick once over, he decided The Master's rapidly forming lump on the back of his head was the least of his worries, and fetching the blanket from where it had been left, covered him up.


	14. Chapter 14

John rubbed his eyes and stretched when the pale light of dawn started to filter in through the small windows set high on one wall. Nothing he had done with the blood sample he had taken from David had come close to figuring out why he was seemingly less effected by the virus. All his simulations had come back that even if he was only a fourth Time Lord, he would still be hit hard, just not as quickly.

He glanced over at the still sleeping man and frowned, there was something he was missing...but what?

As if woken up by John's scrutiny David yawned once, rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. He felt a bit guilty seeing the haggard and clearly exhausted man staring at him as he woke from a good night's rest.

"Morning sunshine," John smiled widely.

"Did you work all night?" David asked as he sat up.

"I did, still not any closer to finding anything," the meta-crisis shook his head sadly, then brightening he gestured off to one side of the lab, "there's a shower room over there, if you want to freshen up. I don't have a spare toothbrush, but there is toothpaste in there...."

"I'll manage," the actor tried for a smile, he had slept so well he had almost forgotten where he was and why he was there, now as he came awake he remembered. Death seemed to be another presence in the room, as if it were an unwanted and uninvited guest. Still, he squared his shoulders, the decision to come with The Doctor, despite repeated warnings, had been his. 

John watched him as he crossed the room, almost holding his breath. He half expected David to notice the fact that The Master had moved and that The Doctor had the stasis collar on, but he seemed not to. He was prepared to defend his actions, his argument at the ready, so not having to use it was a bit of both a pleasant surprise and a disappointment.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear David come up next to him until he heard a slight crunching sound. "Welcome back," he grinned as he sat back on the stool, rubbing his eyes.

"You don't wear glasses?" David asked.

"I don't need them," John explained, "I know why you're asking but to be honest The Doctor doesn't need them either. His are plain glass lenses they're not corrective. It's like the suit, it's part of his persona." 

"I need them, or contacts, I'm blind without them," David replied.

"I can't offer you much in the way of variety but there is something to eat if you're hungry," John pointed at an impressive stash of snack foods, crisps, biscuits and some chocolate bars, "I raided the vending machines," he picked up a bag of crisps, "you do wonder who came up with the idea of lamb and mint flavoured crisps..." he held the bag out to David, but when it wasn't taken he set it down.

"I already have a foul taste in my mouth, I doubt that would help," the actor sighed, patting his pockets down before remembering he had emptied them before going to sleep the night before, "but I'd kill for a cup of coffee."

John held out something that looked suspiciously similar to The Doctor's sonic screwdriver, "choose setting four and aim it at the machine down the hallway, it dispenses a hot coffee-like substance, best you can hope for," then seeing the look David gave the instrument, he smiled, "it's fairly easy to make those you know. If we get out of here, sorry I mean when we get out of here I'll make you a working one of your very own."

"I'll hold you to it," David smiled back. On his way out the door he scooped up the stuff on the table next to the bed, and stuffed it back into his pockets, pausing briefly when the fob watch hummed softly. As he finished up he opened the packet and shook out a breath mint, popping it into his mouth, crunching it as he stepped into the hallway.


	15. Chapter 15

Coffee-like was obviously a broad definition, David decided as the machine spit out the vaguely brown fluid. It tasted more like chicken soup flavoured mud with a hint of coffee and tea mixed it for variety. Risking it he aimed the sonic screwdriver at the machine and tried for the cocoa. It at least looked more like the real thing, sadly it tasted like all the above mixed with a sweet marshmallow foam. Hoping that they'd at least have caffeine in them he started to make his way back to the lab.

As he passed another row of vending machines he saw one that had gum, sweets and other things. Knowing that the packet of mints he had were about gone and they were the only thing able to temporarily beat the rancid taste he had in his mouth since The Master bit him, he aimed the sonic at that too.

To his surprise this machine was a bit more sensitive and spewed its entire contents out with what sounded disturbing like a loud belch. Putting the cups of questionable liquids down David scooped the mints and the gum into one pile with some of the gummy bears. The rest he set on top of the machine before using his shirt to hold the desired items. 

Holding the shirt up with one hand he picked up the coffee cup and gulped it down quickly. It wasn't hot enough to burn his throat in fact in the brief time he had it in his possession it appeared to have congealed a bit. The cocoa still felt warm so he held onto it and walked gingerly back to the lab.

Carefully stepping around the prone Master, being sure to stay out of his reach in case he woke up again David made his way to where John was still sitting at the microscope.

"You weren't kidding about the coffee," he laughed, as he set the cocoa down, "and I think setting four was a bit much for the one machine," he dumped the contents of this shirt onto the counter next to the meta-crisis.

'Trick or treat?" John laughed looking at the pile of sweets. He picked up a packet of gum, "maybe it's my origins but I never really got into chewing this stuff," he turned it around in his hands, and read the label, "for such a small item it has an impressively long list of ingredients."

"This kind is OK," David opened a different pack of gum and freed a stick, unwrapping it and held it out to the other man, "spearmint seems to kill that weird taste."

"That is part of this virus, you feel like you've eaten burnt road kill," John shook his head, "if this works, even for a minute I'll be happy," he put the gum in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, "pretty intense flavour..." he mused.

As he spoke The Master groaned softly in his sleep. To John the sound was so loud he thought that he was busted, surely David would realise the Time Lord had been released from the stasis collar? He looked sidelong at the actor, but he didn't seem to have heard a thing. He was too busy arranging his vending machine bounty by flavour and type while taking sips of the cocoa, perhaps the rustling of the packages had covered up the sound?

Deciding that tea was in order John stood up, removed the gum from his mouth setting it down on the empty wrapper on the counter next to him and made his way over to the kettle.

The whistling of the kettle roused The Master and he staggered over to John, his eyes barely open. David had been so immersed in his arranging he hadn't seen the movement behind him but when he turned around to say something he gasped in surprise to see the Time Lord standing there.

"How did he...?" he started to ask, but John cut him off.

"I put the collar on The Doctor," he explained, his expression clearly communicating that this subject was not open for debate. He handed The Master a cup of tea and poured one for himself, "want some?" he asked David after a moment.

Not quite trusting himself to speak just yet, David shook his head. He was horrified at how awful The Master looked, his usual ruddy complexion white as the institutional walls around them. His clothes, normally pristine were flecked with blood and wrinkled, and seemingly two sizes too large.

For his part The Master eyed the stash of sweets David had carefully arranged for a moment. Then he swiftly grabbed a few items stuffing them into his pockets before slowly making his way over to one of the chairs to drink his tea.

Taking advantage of The Master being out of earshot David unlocked, "why did you do that?" he asked.

"The Doctor was going downhill fast," John explained his voice deceptively mild, "and he is more important."

"The Master isn't my favourite person either, or favourite Time Lord, but you can't play God, deciding who lives or dies!" David protested.

John took a drink from his cup before answering, "we're all going to die, but if I can delay that a bit for some of us, than I will." The way he said this made it abundantly clear the matter was closed as far as he was concerned.

Turning away from the actor John's elbow brushed the work surface and he almost knocked the microscope and the slides off the table. It was only by David's quick action that nothing fell off, he caught them as they slid along, pushing everything back onto the countertop with one hand.

John watched his all dispassionately, then sighed, "I think I will lay down for a bit," he spoke to no one in particular and he made his way to one of the beds.


	16. Chapter 16

Not sure what to do with himself as John climbed into bed and seemed to go instantly asleep, The Master was still out and The Doctor couldn't move due to the stasis collar, David decided to try to put the lab equipment John had almost dumped on the floor back into some semblance of order.  
Luckily only a few slides were broken, he carefully picked up the pieces and set them to one side. The open Petri dish was buried under some papers and the discarded chewed gum still stuck to the wrapper. He cleared the debris and got the work surface tidied and looked around for something else to do. 

After checking on John and The Master, although at a bit of a distance in case the Time Lord woke up again, and decided to attack, he decide he was feeling a bit hungry and went over to choose breakfast from the stack of vending machine offerings.

\-----

The sheer exhaustion of the last few days plus the virus wreaking havoc on John's body had taken their toll, and as much as he had been fighting it, sleep was not to be denied any longer.

The problem was, he realised the minute he was asleep, that he couldn't shield himself very well. The instant he let go of consciousness he could feel his mind reaching out to Violet, he tried to pull back but it was if he had no control over himself. 

In his dream world he was transported to the beach where his wife lay on a large blanket. It felt so real he reached out to brush her cheek and could feel the warmth of her skin on his fingers. A soft smile graced her face as his hand made contact.

By shifting his focus away from Violet he could see Pete, half asleep on a lounge chair and Jackie frowning at a waiter as he approached with a tray of drinks.

But they were not who he wanted to see.

Moving back to Violet he again reached out, this time to stroke her hair, the colour of it was almost the same as the blue of the ocean, and in his confused mind state he wondered why her head felt dry if it was made up of water?

As he made his way to the soft hairs at the base of her neck she stood up, screaming, and shaking as she whipped around, seeming to seek out the source of the recent contact.

As she stood, eyes wide with fear, John retreated. The jarring jolt of landing back in his own body sent waves of pain through him. He tossed on the bed, crying out loudly enough to get David's attention. But before the actor could approach him he went still only his hands clutching at the sheets, giving away his distress.

David was torn between waking John and getting him out of whatever nightmare he was obviously trapped in or let him get past it on his own. Standing over the sleeping man in indecision he went with letting him alone and hoping he'd get some restful sleep before waking.

\-----

Pete was a few drinks into a pleasant half awake half asleep alcoholic haze when Violet jumped to her feet and starting swearing like a sailor. He looked up at her, his eyes half closed, "sand mites?" he offered jokingly.

"Someone just touched me!" she spat out, still shaking. 

His smile faded instantly and he too rose to his feet, "love," he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "there is no one near enough to do that. You must have imagined it."

Violet knew that it sounded crazy, but she also knew what she had felt. The touch wasn't rough, in fact it was so gentle had she had one more drink in her, she could have allowed herself to believe it was just her imagination. But no, this touch was familiar, it was the touch of someone who...

She stopped, suddenly realising who had reached out to to her.

With great effort she let her tension go and smiled at her step father, "you're right, must have been the wind," she lied forcing her voice to be light. She retook her position on the blanket and took a sip of her drink, hoping Pete would stop staring at her light she was a ticking bomb and go back to, well, whatever he was doing before her outburst.

She sighed, inwardly as Pete looked away at last and gulped the rest of his drink and reached for the new one at his side.


	17. Chapter 17

As she lay back down Violet's mind was going a mile a minute. It was obviously John who had travelled across the barriers of reality, astral projection, she corrected herself. But his energy felt off, his fingers in real life were slightly cool to the touch. Being half human, half Time Lord he wasn't as warm as the men she had known before. But this brief contact he had felt hotter than the sun beating down on her now.

Not sure if that was in some way reflective of his true body or not Violet wondered why he was seeking her out now, and if he was in some sort of danger.

Her training at Torchwood had helped her develop her own psychic abilities, but her strong willed husband had always been able to block her attempts whenever he felt like it. She tried now, closing her eyes and focusing on him. 

The instant she did she felt ill, her body was consumed by fire, and every muscle cramped up and her head pounding. Gritting her teeth she pushed onwards, beyond the discomfort to try to get into his mind. 

She had almost touched it when she was shoved away. She felt strong hands push her hard in the chest as if someone was standing over her. Her eyes flew open at that and she bit back a startled squeak.

Not looking at Pete, but hoping he was distracted elsewhere, she reached into her carry all and took out her mobile and dialled Torchwood, hoping that this time someone would answer.

\-----

The phone, set into one wall of the lab started to ring. David was a bit surprised at that and wondered if he should answer it. He was about to when John suddenly sat up, eyes wide and breath rasping in his throat.

"Don't answer that," he ordered.

"Sorry it woke you up," David replied knowing that the few minutes sleep John had managed to get were not nearly enough.

"It didn't," John sighed, throwing back the covers to swing his feet over the edge of the bed. 

Not wanting to pry when no further explanation was given David gestured at the lab table, "I put everything back, as near as I could. Some slides were damaged..." he trailed off wondering why he was babbling about that when John was not really listening to him.

He walked over to the meta-crisis and sat next to him on the bed, "you really didn't get enough rest," he started, "maybe you should give yourself a sedative and try again?"

John shook his head, "no. It was a bad idea in the first place. I can't waste time sleeping while all this is going on. I need to find a cure," he glanced over at The Master. The Time Lord was apparently asleep, his head thrown back, still somewhat perched on the chair. The odd thing was the laboured breathing seemed to have eased a great deal. He didn't sound like a steam engine chugging along as his chest rose and fell.

Puzzled John got off the bed and walked over to him. The pile of empty sweets wrappers at his feet was impressive. He had eaten everything he had taken from the table, which made John's stomach turn as he eyed the packaging. He couldn't imagine the combination of chocolates, chips, mints and gummy bears making for a good meal, but then again he wasn't The Master. 

Who knows, he mused as he took the empty tea cup from the sleeping Time Lord's hands and set it down on the empty chair next to him, maybe that's his normal diet.

He was surprised to find that he was a bit hungry himself. Since falling ill John had existed only on cups of tea and pain killers, that didn't really live up to their name. He grabbed a package of crisps and was about to open it when his attention was caught by something on the lab table's work surface.

Setting the package down he picked up the Petri dish, turning it in his hands he studied it closely.

"What's so interesting?" David asked coming up next to him.

"This," John held up the dish, "I was growing live cultures of the virus, to track its growth..."

"And?" David prompted.

"There's a bit in the middle that's been wiped out," John finished. He turned on the microscope and put the dish on the tray to examine it closer, "something that came in contact with it, seems to have killed of some of the cells."

"Just before you went to sleep," David explained, "you sort of knocked everything over, that was buried under a mound of papers and other stuff, I cleared the mess and put the items back in order."

John's eyes were wide, and he was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Then he cleared his throat, "this is vitally important, I need you to think carefully. When you cleaned up these things," he gestured at the equipment, "what came in contact with the dish?"


	18. Chapter 18

Trying to remember what he had cleared away David closed his eyes, picturing the heap of items on the work surface. He could see papers, empty tea cups, and broken slides. He remembered being very careful with the shards of glass and then he drew a blank. There was something else but the more he tried to remember the harder his head pounded.

He opened his eyes, "I can't think of anything special. There was a jumbled heap of things but it's all still there, just tidied up," he gestured at the table.

John looked at the items, on the counter. Nothing looked like a virus killer, it certainly wasn't tea that wiped out the specimen, he had consumed enough of it to refill an Olympic sized swimming pool and he still felt like hell.

David sighed, clearly he had let John down he could tell by the way the other man's shoulder's slumped that he had lost that little bit of hope he had at first discovering the current state of the Petri dish.

The horrid headache, was making it hard to concentrate and the foul taste in his mouth was back. He reached in his pocket for a breath mint and his fingers brushed against the fob watch. He yelped in surprise as he felt a jolt of electricity jump from the watch to his hand.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

Carefully David reached for the watch again, this time it didn't shock him but hummed and vibrated at his touch. He pulled it out of his pocket, "it shocked me," he held up the watch. 

"That's not normal behaviour," John replied eyeing the watch and hearing the soft sound of it singing. "maybe it's trying to get your attention?"

"All I did was put my hand in my pocket," the actor turned the object in his hands, "I can't imagine why it would object to that?"

John rubbed his eyes, "you've been eating a lot of those things Maybe it is worried about cavities?"

"I should think that's the least of my worries," David replied, taking out the packet and popping one in his mouth, "and they are the only thing that combats the horrid taste," he held out the package, "want one?"

John took one out, "sure why not," he put it into his mouth, and tucked it into his cheek, "well, guess it's time to try out everything on this table, and see what it is that apparently kills the virus," he turned back to the microscope.

The silence that fell over the lab was broken but the sound of a loud belch from one corner of the room. John snorted but didn't look up from his work. David, who had been thinking about his recent travels with The Doctor and wishing he anywhere else but in some dingy lab, slowly dying of an apparently manufactured virus, was startled by the sound.

The Master was awake and by the improved colour in his face and clearly focused eyes seemed to be feeling better. 

David got John's attention, "maybe the virus is running its course?" he offered hopefully.

"I ran simulations on his blood and The Doctor's," John explained patiently, "there is nothing in their biology that can fight that off. It's probably more likely a brief rallying that is common with a lot of fatal diseases..." he was cut off as The Master approached him. 

"What are you doing? You are just killing time aren't you? You are just as useless as your sire," he spat out trying to pull John away from the microscope, "why don't you let me have a go at it?"

As he bent towards the equipment he burped again, making no attempt to cover his mouth he blasted John with a foul with a minty undertone smelling outburst.

"That's nice," John grumbled waving his hand to clear the air between them, "I guess being sick has also effected your manners."

The Master forced another belch, aiming it even more precisely, "when amongst the heathens..." he laughed as he hit John square in the face this time.

He was surprised when he suddenly found himself on the floor. John's patience with him, never that great to start with, was at its end and he shoved The Master away hard. The Time Lord was not prepared for this and stumbled backwards, catching his heel on a power cord.

He leapt to his feet with surprising vigour and lunged towards the meta-crisis, hands raised to throttle him but was stopped by David stepping in front of him, blocking his path. 

"This isn't going to accomplish anything," the actor announced, "I know it's too much to expect you two to get along but this is a matter of life and death and acting like children isn't going to get us any closer to finding a cure!"


	19. Chapter 19

"He started it," The Master groused, "if he hadn't held me prisoner here none of this would have happened!"

"Very dramatic!" John countered, "you were never a prisoner, I just made you work for once in your pathetic life. Instead you chose to act like a spoilt child and in doing so doomed us all!"

"How was I supposed to know those vials were deadly? You're the one who had them just casually filed away in some dingy corner of this Rassilon forsaken place," The Master replied.

"And the fact that you just stomped on them without knowing what they contained is somehow my fault?" the meta-crisis shot back, a grin on his face that was not quite reaching his eyes.

"Yes!" the Time Lord shouted back.

"Care to tell me how you arrived at this conclusion?" John asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"You should have known better than to trust me!" The Master yelled his face turning bright red.

That declaration seemed to stun John into silence. His eyes widened and the grin faded from his face. David wondered what was going on in his head as he watched him just staring at The Master. Finally shaking his head and turning back to the microscope John seemed to dismiss the Time Lord. 

The Master had apparently used up whatever reserves of energy that had allowed him to move around the lab and sat on the stool next to the meta-crisis. He pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and mopped the sweat from his brow. He looked at John then over to The Doctor, and finally his mismatched eyes came to rest on David, "why aren't you suffering?" he asked his voice low and menacing.

"Sorry to disappoint you," the actor replied softly. Then seeing the paleness returning to The Master's face he felt a wave of sympathy for him. He wasn't the nicest being in the universe but no one deserved this, "we've been trying to figure that out, " he shrugged.

"In some ways that's fitting," The Master focused on something seemingly over David's head, no longer looking at him, "you were the last created, so you will be the last to die." With that he stood up turning his back to the others and walked over to his fellow Time Lord, sitting on the edge of the cot next to him.

A hush fell over the room, the only sounds were the clink of pipettes as John tested everything on the surface of the work table on a sample from the Petri dish. As each item failed to get the desired result he would discard and move onto the next.

David could feel the tension growing and it seemed to manifest itself into a loud buzzing sound in his ears. He was about to dismiss that as a figment of his imagination when The Master snapped, "would you shut that damn thing up?"

John looked up, "I thought I was the only one hearing that," he rose from his seat and approached David, "you hear that too?"

"Yes," the actor nodded, "it's been getting louder, hasn't it? But where is it coming from?"

"Your pocket," John informed him, "it's the watch. You said it shocked you earlier, and that didn't get the desired result. Can't you hear the song? It's singing."

Reaching into his pocket he pulled the watch out, as soon as he did that it went silent again, "what the hell?" he murmured and tried to open it. The lid didn't budge. "I can't make out what it's trying to tell me," he held it out to John.

"It's not going to work for me," the meta-crisis sighed running his hands through his hair, "that one is tuned to just you. Sometimes they are set for a more universal broadcast in case of needing to use them to store information for retrieval later but that one can only be opened by you and the one who gave it to you."

"But you're just like The Doctor," David countered, "can't you open it?"

John shook his head sadly, "but not enough alike in this case. You need to listen to it and decipher what it is trying to tell you."

With a groan of frustration David shook the watch trying to get it to sing again. It stubbornly remained silent growing cold in his hand as he willed it to impart its wisdom. All eyes were now watching him and he felt the weight of their expectations as a heavy pressure in his chest. With the thought of just giving it up he went to put the watch back into his pocket. As he did so a massive jolt of electricity hit him.

John, who had been watching David's efforts, saw the actor go stiff, his body jerking as he swayed on his feet, he rushed over just in time to stop him falling to the floor and carried him over to the free bed. 

"What the hell was that?" he grunted as he lifted the still form onto the cot.

"They can be pretty insistent," The Master offered with detached interest, "guess he's found that out now."


	20. Chapter 20

Despite the violent seizures that had hit his body before he lost consciousness, David had felt no pain. Instead his mind was flooded with images. Green fields rushed by, followed by spiky leaves glistening in the sunlight and the heady smell of freshly picked herbs filled his senses.

The watch, still clutched in his hand vibrated as it took him on a journey of discovery. He tried to make sense of it all but the images were going by so quickly he only could watch and wait hoping for enlightenment. 

John tried to free the fob from his tight grip but as he touched the watch he too was dealt a shock, it wasn't as severe but it was enough to make him realise that further attempts would be not only be of no use, but massively unwelcome.

He sat down next to the still twitching man, watching the way his body jerked and twisted as his eyes flickered back and forth under his tightly closed lids. He wished he would see what David was seeing, it was obviously something of great importance!

Then remembering himself he leaned forward placing his long fingers on the pulse points of the actor's temples, closed his eyes and joined minds. Both men gasped as they touched and then went silent.

Moments later, with a cry of what sounded like pain John's eyes flew open and he broke contact. He stood up, visibly shaking and then taking a deep breath ran over to the microscope again. 

The Master watched as the meta-crisis dumped out a packet of something onto the table, then pulled a hammer from one of the drawers and proceeded to pound on the countertop with it white dust rising as he did so.

Placing his hands over his ears, hoping to block at least some of the noise that seemed to echo in his already pounding head he walked over to the abomination, "what are you doing?"

"I'm busy!" John countered, not letting up on the almost powderised remains of whatever it was he was seeming to be trying to beat into submission.

Reaching out The Master grabbed the thin wrist in his hand, "it's dead, whatever it is, so you can stop now."

John twisted his arm free with a growl, scooped up a bit of the powder and placed it on the slide with the sample from the Petri dish. 

The Master had never really given this freak of nature a lot of thought but the look of madness in his dark eyes and the grim line of his mouth as he studied the slide made him wonder if this creature was completely insane. 

He had known what had been discovered when Time Lords had bred with others that their offspring tended to go mad under the weight of all that knowledge full blooded children of Gallifrey possessed from birth. Which is why when there were more of them around, before their world was destroyed, breeding outside one's own kind was, well, not exactly forbidden, but sanctioned against.  
More than ever he was convinced that John was a mistake, he should never have been allowed to come into existence. And once he did he should have been destroyed immediately and certainly not allowed to compound the error by breeding another mistake like himself.

Maybe, The Master smiled grimly, this is why this all came to pass. It was to wipe out the cosmic error, even if it meant killing the only two Time Lords in existence in order to clean up the mess.

Just as he considered snapping the meta-crisis' neck to end this all now John stood up waving the slide, "it's been there all along!" he yelled, as he smiled widely, "something so simple, and it's been staring me in the face the whole time! I just didn't see it!"

"What has?" The Master asked, not liking the demented gleam in the half breed's eyes.

"Mint! Precisely spearmint," John laughed, "those breath mints David's been sucking on since he got here, they're spearmint."

"So he'll have nice minty breath when he dies," The Master sneered, "good for him."

"You are so incredibly thick sometimes," the other man replied, "the antidote is spearmint. You ate a bunch of them and look at you now! You were at death's door and worse luck for me, have roused enough to be a royal pain again. David's been consuming them like they're going out of style because of that rancid taste that's one of the side effects. He's saved us all!"

The Master's jaw dropped, he looked at the now still form on the bed, the watch completely silent and fallen out of his grasp. Then back at John, "mint? you can't be serious," then he trailed off, "there was a plant, very similar to mint my mother used to make herbal tea out of. It tasted like mouthwash but she insisted it was good for my health."

"That must have been the 'out' for this virus when it was originally created, only that antidote was lost in time when our...your race was wiped out," John's voice sounded dreamy and far away as he went quiet.


	21. Chapter 21

John threw the sonic screwdriver at The Master, "go to every vending machine in the building, get all of the mint based items you can find, spearmint specifically and bring them back."

Normally getting orders barked at him by a vastly inferior being would have set his hackles up but knowing that the abomination was right and thus his own life would be saved by cooperating The Master caught the device and set out to do as he was told.

John started a beaker of water boiling over a flame and dumped the rest of the crushed powder into it and set about reducing the rest of the mints to dust to add to it.

As the liquid reduced down to an almost sludge, fed by The Master's finds John turned the flame off and sat back regarding the oddly coloured liquid. This had to work, he prayed silently. But there was that niggling doubt in the back of his mind. Maybe this was a dead end, and not knowing how such a concentrated solution of spearmint would effect whoever ingested it he wondered who should try it first.

If it was a fatal dose and he gave it to The Master first, well, it would be sad but not tragic. And the Time Lord had said he should get the first taste as he did all the leg work. But he couldn't quite bring himself to let that happen.

He looked over to where David was still unconscious on the bed, and knew he couldn't let him be the guinea pig either. Killing him would be the end of his own life, and he would never forgive himself. The Doctor was safe, temporarily, as he was so he was quickly ruled out too.

That left, he sighed eyeing the thick liquid, only himself. He was the only life he could freely give, after all. Unlike The Doctor, the idea of playing god, deciding someone else's fate, was not something he ever wanted to do.

Pouring some of the viscous and rapidly cooling substance into a small paper cup he lifted it to his lips, ignoring the cloying and overpowering smell of burnt sugar and mint, he tipped the contents into his mouth.

The texture was like slightly melted petroleum jelly and instead of sliding down easily it was a massive lump as he swallowed. It seemed to cling to his throat, coating it with a minty slime as it made its way down. 

The Master watched him, eyes glittering as he leaned in towards John. Making the meta-crisis feel uncomfortably like if he were a mouse being contemplated by a hungry cat. 

The substance hit his near empty stomach and he felt the urge to be desperately ill. He gulped in a few breaths and fought the nausea willing himself to keep it down. He had never liked the taste of any sort of mint and hearing The Master's story of being forced to drink a medicinal tea of a similar substance he knew why. 

And it made sense that the creators of this virus would make the antidote, or the potential antidote, he corrected himself, something the average child of Gallifrey wouldn't normally ingest.

The Master could not be silent any longer, "how are you feeling?" he asked, clearly not interested in John's personal well being, but rather the potential for his own recovery.

"Once you get past the taste, and the texture and the urge to retch..." John swallowed hard again, "it's the worst thing I've ever ingested."

"But is it helping?" 

"I can't be sure yet, I really doubt it's going to be instantaneous, it's not a magic pill," John insisted, "it hasn't killed me, yet, so that part is good."

The Master sat back disappointedly, "I hate waiting," he grumbled, "especially having to wait with only you for company."

"Don't worry," John countered, "you're not who I'd choose as the last being I spend time with before I die either, but the fact remains," he paused to take another gulp of air, "we're stuck here together." 

He eyed the beaker of hardening spearmint solution and turned the flame back on low, suddenly feeling very hungry he reached for a package of crisps and downed the contents in four mouthfuls before tearing into another one.

Five more followed suit and as he licked the crumbs from his fingers he realised that The Master was watching him with an expression of horrified amusement, "if I ate like that I'd weigh seventeen stone," he chuckled mirthlessly.

John eyed the wreckage of his erstwhile meal, "you probably do anyway, but I don't usually eat that way either," he trailed off as he took stock of the rest of his body, the grinding fatigue he had felt since becoming ill was lessening, and the headache, the constant throbbing was also fading. 

"I think it's working," he smiled at last.


	22. Chapter 22

The Master jumped up and held out his hand, "me next!" he snapped his fingers impatiently as John filled a small paper cup with the liquid and gulped it down. He set the empty cup on the counter, "you weren't kidding about the taste," he grimaced, "I feel like I just had a candy cane relieve itself in my mouth."

But John wasn't listening, he was too busy pouring two more cups of the solution. First he gently lifted David off the bed, opening his mouth, tilting his head back to slowly and carefully, mindful not to make him choke, poured the contents of the paper cup down his throat.

And when that was done he turned off The Doctor's stasis collar and repeated the same actions on him.

Then came the waiting. The only sound at first was the soft breathing of the two still men on the beds and The Master's ever increasing in volume belches. He seemed to be going for some sort of world's record in burping and chuckled with amusement with each one that issued forth.

Just when he was wondering if there was any gaffer's tape in the lab, to fashion a gag for the belching Time Lord John realised he was being watched. The Doctor was sitting up on the edge of the bed, regarding the room in general and John specifically with a puzzled expression.

"I should be dead," he breathed out.

"Maybe you are," The Master laughed, then let out a burp that seemed to rattle the windows.

"If I am, I am sorely disappointed at all the theologians who promised a glittering paradise in the afterlife," The Doctor countered before tentatively rising to his feet, "why do I feel like a herb garden is growing in my mouth?"

"That's the mint extract," John replied and then explained the rest of it to The Doctor. When he was done they both regarded David in silence.

"Breath mints," The Doctor repeated slowly, "I know they have saved the day in many social gatherings...but who knew?"

David's eyes opened a few minutes later, to seeing three sets of eyes staring down at him, "is my fly undone or something?" he asked, his mind still a bit fuzzy.

John bent over and helped him into a sitting position, "you are a very clever lad," he smiled gently, "I think you inherited that from me."

The Master snorted at this and rolled his eyes, he was given a warning glare from The Doctor and John, so he bit back whatever retort he had on the tip of his tongue and feigned disinterest.

"What do you mean?" David asked his head clearing a bit more.

"Mints, specifically breath mints with spearmint extract," John explained, "that was why you weren't getting as sick as the rest of us. It was the cure."

"I'm glad, but I can't really take credit for that, it was completely coincidental!" the actor protested.

"As much as I'd like to believe that," The Doctor looked at him seriously, "I don't think that's really the case. Too many times you've managed to come up with the solution the thing that saves the day and seemingly by accident or just being you...why is that?"

Feeling very uncomfortable under The Doctor's scrutiny David looked away, "maybe I'm just lucky?" he offered quietly.

"It's more than that," the thin Time Lord persisted, "but I am glad you're on my side." He dropped his gaze and turned towards The Master, "it's time we were off," he announced. Then smiling at John he clapped his almost-clone on the shoulder, "we'll leave you to clean up the mess and explain   
all this to your charming wife."

"Typical," John muttered, "thanks a lot."

"You're welcome," The Doctor replied sincerely, apparently missing the tone of sarcasm in the other's words, "best of luck!"

Goodbyes were made. David seemed reluctant to leave John on his own, but The Doctor and The Master were in a hurry to get under way. As they stepped inside the TARDIS The Master popped his head back out of the doorway, "I hope you've learnt your lesson," he snapped before shutting the door and disappearing inside.

John waited until the TARDIS started to de-materialise before sticking his tongue out at it and then turned back the mess in the lab and began to clean it up.

\--------

When Violet arrived home she instantly sought out her husband, he was in the back garden sitting in the shade of the oak tree watching the sun flicker through the branches.

She noted his paleness seemed a bit more pronounced than normal, but the thing that caught her eye was the trash bin next to him overflowing with empty crisp packets.

"This is what you've been doing while I've been gone?" she smiled at him, "gorging on junk food?"

"Did you know that there are over 12945 flavours of crisps in the world, including one that claims to taste like hedgehog?" he smiled back, popping a bubble with the wad of gum he had in his mouth.

"And chewing gum?" she added laughing as he carefully peeled the popped bubble from his face, "so I guess if I leave you alone for too long you revert to childhood?"

He stood up and gathered her in his arms, "I was never a child," he kissed her softly, his lips tasting of mint and salt.

"I'm glad you're home," he grinned at her, blowing another bubble and waiting until she caught on, and with her index finger she popped the gum, laughing as the white sticky substance stuck to his nose.

"I'm glad I'm home too," she laughed.


End file.
